


A La Minute

by bzarcher



Series: Overwatch: Fine Dining AU [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Cooking, F/F, F/M, Fine Dining, Food, Gen, I don't even know how this happened., Podfic Welcome, relationships, why yes gabe you ARE gay for Jack Morrison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 02:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7994761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzarcher/pseuds/bzarcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison have been working to revamp the menu at Overwatch, but their executive Chef just threw them both a major curveball.  (Note: Several characters are mentioned in passing but do not have speaking roles.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A La Minute

Gabriel Reyes was righteously pissed as he slammed the door to the walk in cooler.

“Jack, this is **BULLSHIT** _._ ”

“I know,” Jack Morrison – fucking golden boy Jack Morrison – tried to calm him down, voice low. “Three quarters of the new menu is stuff you came up with, or stuff you helped me put together. Kicking you downstairs right before we roll it out isn’t right. Chef is being a fuckhead.”

Gabe felt his eyebrows raise almost to the edge of the beanie. “Hearing you actually swear while we’re at work is almost worth this shit. Jesse owes me twenty bucks now.”

Jack snorted, grabbing some recipe sheets off his prep table, and replied by flipping the bird.

Gabe took a deep breath, and tried to laugh a little more at Jack’s annoyance. It helped, and the more he worked gathering the ingredients he would need for prep, he could feel the anger draining out of him. He and Jack had both started at Overwatch around the same time – working as prep bitches in the basement while Chef worked to get “his masterpiece” off the ground, dreaming of making it one of the best restaurants in Gibraltar.

That had been almost ten years ago now. Despite Gabriel lacking Jack’s high pedigree culinary degree, he had talent and drive to spare, and they’d kept pace with each other as they’d risen through the ranks of the Overwatch kitchen. Prep to _commis_ , spending time doing _garde manger_ , learning every position on the line until they’d both been promoted to roundsman, going into the kitchen wherever Chef needed, and helping to bring new kids along with the seemingly endless churn of people looking for a job, an externship, washing dishes, whatever.

Business had been good, at first, and the restaurant boomed, but over the last few years it had been slipping. The menu was stale and reviews were tepid. No excitement. No innovation.

Chef had given Gabriel and Jack a mission six months ago – bring in new ideas. A transfusion of new blood. They’d worked to develop recipes, looked at what was and wasn’t working for other restaurants around town, busted their asses figuring out ways to bring food costs down, and finding new ways to use what they already had.

They’d been testing pieces of the new menu as lunch specials and off the menu dishes for VIP customers for most of the last month, and they were ready to switch over to the new menu when Chef had called them both into his office.

They’d expected to be thanked for their work. What they got was Chef informing Jack that he was being promoted to Executive _sous chef_ , while Gabriel was being given “an opportunity” to take over Blackwatch, the restaurant’s catering business. While on paper it was an equally prestigious promotion, it really meant longer hours, losing what little time he was able to spend with friends, and the slap in the face of not being able to see his hard work come to life.

It wasn’t entirely surprising. After all, Jack had the degree, had charm, and had the golden haired, blue eyed good looks that drove Gabriel absolutely insane. If he didn’t have a strict policy about not fishing off the company pier, Gabe would have dragged his ass into bed years ago.

As it was, the ONLY plus, aside from being able to turn Blackwatch into his own little baby, was that he technically DIDN’T work with Jack anymore, so maybe…

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality, and he realized that Jack was looking at him, face full of concern.

“Hey. You with me?”

“Oh. Sorry, yeah…just trying to calm down and thinking things over.” He mustered as much of a smile as he could manage, and Jack’s eyes softened. “This sucks. But I can make it work. I’m stealing Jesse for my _sous_ , though.”

Jack grinned. “I kind of expected that. Is he ready?”

Gabe snorted. “He’s been following my ass around for the last two years. He’s still an idiot, but he’s got what it takes to do this. He won’t let me down.”

Jack nodded, then went to his table to start working on his _mise_ for service. “Anyone else you’d care to snipe?”

Gabe thought about that. “Think Hanzo would come off _garde manger_ to work for me?”

Jack shrugged. “Can’t hurt to ask. He’s got a great mind for all the details there, but he’d be great at doing catering and platings for the same reason.”

Gabe’s smile turned a bit wolfish as he started to work on his own prep. “Plus it would keep Genji from bothering him during service.”

“I think you just found your secret weapon.”

The younger Shimada was a great server – only speedy little Lena tended to pull more tips thanks to her seemingly endless energy and sunny personality – but annoying his elder brother seemed to be his favorite pastime, and Gabe WAS awfully sick of having to call runners for his tables when Genji was off bothering Hanzo or getting phone numbers from half his checks.

“I’ll probably borrow Amélie when we need a bartender, too.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have quite a team, there.”

Gabe nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I think we do.”

* * *

Service was a little awkward that night, with servers and fellow kitchen staff giving Gabe sympathetic congratulations and constantly watching him like they’d expected him to explode at any moment. He was too professional to screw things up, though, no matter how pissed he was at Chef, and it wasn’t Jack’s fault.

After 89 covers and locking up, Gabe had taken Amélie, Hanzo, Jesse, and Jack out to one of their favorite after hours bars. Jack for company, the rest so he could pitch them on jumping ship over to his new crew. Apparently someone had told Ana, the owner, about what had happened, because she had their usuals lined up, plus five shots of Cuervo when they walked in.

“I heard you boys got put into a bit of a shit sandwich. How’re you doing, Gabriel?”

Gabe snorted. “Ana, last I checked I’m 32. Little old to be called your boys.”

Ana’s eyes narrowed, and for a second he could really identify with what a deer feels like when it’s caught in a car’s headlights. “Gabriel. Cut the bullshit.”

Gabe downed his shot, savoring the burn, then let out a long breath. “I’m not really that happy about what happened. But Jack and I spent some time talking about it. I think I can make things work.”

Ana looked over to the table the others had settled into. Jack was nursing a beer and nodding as Jesse ran something past him, while Hanzo and Amélie were exchanging their usual barbs about her ridiculous fruity cocktail versus his prim little bottle of sake. “Mm. Make things work? Or make things _work?_ ”

Gabe very deliberately did NOT look at Jack before taking a swig of his own beer. “I thought we weren’t gonna talk about this.”

“ _I_ thought you were finally going to grow some balls and ask him on a date.” Ana smirked. “You were certainly taking him out to dinner enough.”

“That was research.”

“Right.”

“Had to see what some of the other new spots were doing. That molecular gastro menu at Talon was interesting.”

“I seem to recall telling you to cut the bullshit.”

Gabe was glad for the lower lighting. He was pretty sure Ana could spot the blush that rose on his cheeks, but hopefully the others wouldn’t. “…I’ll think about it. It’s not easy. Especially if I’m going to start working 14, 18 hour days doing catering and banquets.”

Ana sighed, looking down at the bar for a moment. “I get it. I barely see Fareeha before she goes to school, and half the time I have to leave to open up here before she’s off the bus. But think about it, Gabe. Life really is too short.”

Gabe nodded. He knew Ana had a daughter – cute as a button, honestly, and already getting interested in cooking, to Ana’s pride and horror. She’d never, ever talked about Fareeha’s father, though, and the subject always got changed when it might come up. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had probably happened.

“Yeah,” Gabe sighed. “Yeah it is. Thanks for the shot.”

“No worries,” Ana smiled, the sparkle coming back to her face. “I’ve been there. You still get to pay for your beer, though.”

“You’re all heart.”

When he’d made it back to the table, carrying a fresh shot that Ana had been nice enough to pour, they toasted the promotions, condemned their asshole boss, and drained the shots. Gabe made his pitch, and Jesse and Hanzo were on board. Amélie could split time between catering gigs and the bar without a problem. It was looking good.

“Shame I can’t steal Satya to do pastry,” Gabe mused. “She’d be a big help.”

Jack snorted. “Drawing the line there. I need her for the new dessert menu – and Jamie would personally kill you.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Jamie needs to get his ass out of the dish tank and ask her out instead of moping around like a puppy.”

That got him a sharp kick in the ankle from Amélie. “Ow! Fuck was that for?”

“You know perfectly well, _imbécile_.” Hanzo had started talking to Jack about some kind of ramen he used to get back in Japan – he was missing half the context – and didn’t seem to notice their little side play.

“Oh, and that worked out so well for you.” Gabe had no idea what Amélie had seen in the fussy little _sommelier_ aside from their shared French roots, but the whirlwind romance and marriage had come to a messy end one night with a fight after service that had required them to be physically separated. That mess resulted in Gerard being fired and Amélie only hanging on to her job because of Angela, the front of house manager, personally vouching for how many patrons Amélie had brought in to their bar.

Reminding her of that event also earned him another sharp kick. At least she hadn’t stomped on his foot with her ridiculous heels.

“OK, I earned that.”

“You certainly did.”

Anything else they would have said was interrupted by a loud snore. Jesse had apparently knocked off the rest of his shitty Tecate and put his head down on the table before passing out.

Gabe put his head into his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose to help wake himself up. “ _Vales verga._ Jack – hey, Morrison!”

Jack looked back over at the other side of the table, blinking owlishly. “Oh. Oh, shit, he did it again, didn’t he?”

“Course he fucking did. Get his phone – I’ll call him an uber.”

Jack fished the phone from the sleeping drunk’s jeans, but shook his head. “Not with this one. Battery’s dead.”

“Christ.” Gabriel looked over at Hanzo. “Can you get him back to your apartment?”

Hanzo nodded, somehow managing to look stone cold sober despite four of those sake bottles on their rack of dead soldiers. “I can. I may even keep Genji from drawing penises on his face – if he stops snoring.”

Getting the drunk cowboy (where did he even get those stupid boots?) into Hanzo’s sedan and buckled in wasn’t fun, but they managed. Amélie had walked off to the Metro stop from there, and Gabe found himself standing in the parking lot with Jack, neither of them feeling that steady.

“Think we ought to call a cab?”

Jack shrugged. “My place isn’t too far. I can walk it.”

Gabe sighed. “I really don’t want to get an Uber halfway across town at 3am.”

“So come home with me.”

Gabe’s mouth was suddenly dry, his pulse racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the alcohol he’d drunk. “You sure?”

Jack nodded. “I’ve got a couch.” They locked eyes, and Gabriel felt like the street was suddenly falling out from under him. “Got a decent sized bed, too.”

“Jack, I don’t...”

“Fish off the company pier,” Morrison finished, his fingers sliding up around the back of Gabe’s head. His hand was warm and the skin on the back of Gabe’s neck suddenly felt like it was on fire. “I know. But…as of tomorrow we don’t technically work for the same company anymore, do we?”

If you asked, neither of them could say who had actually started the kiss. Gabe finished it, though, dragging his teeth against Jack’s bottom lip just a bit, nipping the edge lightly just before they broke contact.

“Your place.”

“My place.”

“Let’s go.”

* * *

Six much too short hours later, Gabriel Reyes woke up in a strange bed, wearing only his boxers, and with a jackhammer attempting to bust out of his own skull. It took him a moment to roll off the bed, and another minute to fumble into someone else’s bathroom.

A long piss and a splash of water on his face started to bring the rest of his hungover brain back to life, and he suddenly realized that this wasn’t his bathroom. So if he wasn’t in his apartment, where…?

“Oh, fuck.” He drew out the last word, rubbing the sleep out of his face. Did that actually happen? Had he actually ended up here after making out in Ana’s fucking parking lot? Yes. Yes it had. Vague memories of walking up the stairs, trading a couple more half drunken kisses, the tequila and beers finally getting to them, clothes starting to come off…hands on his chest like he hadn’t even let himself imagine…and what?

Had they seriously gone this far and just fallen asleep? Ana was going to laugh her head off. Or stab him with a fork.

The smell of frying bacon helped Gabe find his way to the small apartment kitchen after putting his clothes back on, where Jack was standing at his range, shirtless, working on bacon on one burner and an omelet on the other.

Gabe had to pinch the inside of his wrist to make sure this was actually real, giving Jack the chance to see him standing in the doorway.

“Morning. How’s your head?”

“I need coffee. And water. And grease.”

Jack smiled, then slid the omelet onto a plate. Two strips of bacon joined it before he handed the plate over, nodding his head to a coffeemaker in the corner. “This should help. Coffee’ll be done in a minute.”

Gabe took the plate and made his way to the table, still not quite sure what he was doing. “Thanks. So…I guess that happened?”

Jack smiled. “Sort of. We were both pretty out of it by the time we got here.” A blush rose from his chest up to those perfect cheekbones, and Gabe suddenly forgot about the food in front of him. “Waking up next to you was really nice.”

Gabe mumbled something like _I wish I could remember that_ , and became very interested in his eggs.

He’d finished most of the bacon and about half the omelet when Jack sat down across from him, sliding a cup of coffee over.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So…”

“So?”

Gabe swallowed a bite of egg that suddenly felt like it was made of lead. Christ, he was acting like a teenager. “So…was this a one-time kind of deal? Or…are we a thing?”

Jack reached out, stroking his cheek. “I’d like to be a thing.”

Gabe suddenly realized exactly how bad he had it for this white boy. “I’d really like it to be, too.”

This time, Gabe was absolutely sure he started the kiss. Jack might have disagreed, though.

“I need a clean shirt. Take me over to my apartment later?”

“Sure. I can get you over to Ana’s to pick up your car, too.”

Gabe smiled. He could get used to this. “I guess that’s a plan. Now we just get to deal with rolling out the new menu…”

Jack smirked. “Actually, I had an idea about that…”

* * *

Four hours later, Gabe was helping Jack with prep for what was going to be his last night in the Overwatch kitchens. He’d have the weekend off, for once, and start assembling his new staff at Blackwatch Monday morning.

Jesse did have one small penis drawn neatly in permanent marker on the top his forehead when he’d dragged himself into work, but the perpetually scruffy idiot kept Chef from seeing it thanks to the band of his toque. Gabriel had given Chef a list of the staff he wanted to move to Blackwatch with him, and was given the OK without argument. That had surprised him a little, but he’d probably gone along with his request since it meant Gabriel was going to do what Chef wanted and not cause too much of a stink.

Things looked good – he’d helped Jack put out sample plates for the servers, everyone had the new recipes drilled into them, and there was a buzz of excitement. Everyone wanted to see what their guests would think about the new menu.

He was going to say something to Jack about checking the mise for the new chimichurri sauce he’d put together when a blonde haired figure damn near kicked in the door from the front of the house.

“Jack,” Angela cried, “where are you?”

“Over here,” he waved, and the front of house manager headed over in a way that Gabe could only call “bustling”.

“We may have a problem.”

Gabe frowned. “Problem? What’s going on?”

Angela held up the reservations sheet. “Hana Song just booked a table for tonight. Specifically mentioned wanting to see the new menu.”

Gabe whistled. Song was a local food blogger who had started by taking instagrams and snapchats, and now had a sizable following for “D.Va’s Dish.” If she liked you, you could almost guarantee a spike in business. If not…

Angela nodded. “We have to make sure everything she gets is _perfect._ Tonight is too important to screw this up. Chef wants you to handle her table – personally.”

Jack held up a hand. “I can do that – but if I’m going to give her the VIP treatment, I’m going to need Gabe with me on this.”

The Swiss woman bit the side of her lip. “Chef may not like that. He was very specific about you handling this.”

“I will be handling this,” Jack reassured her, “Gabe will be able to help explain the thought process behind each dish, and where we found inspiration for them. We’ll give her a complete walkthrough of the entire menu, and we can throw together a special _amuse_ to get her interested.”

Angela thought through that, then nodded. “Yes, that…that should work. Her reservation is for 8:30. Can you have that _amuse_ ready for as soon as she’s been seated?”

“No problem,” Jack assured her. “We’ve got this.”

Gabe waited for Angela to head back to her office before turning to Jack with a raised eyebrow. “I seem to recall you having an idea this morning.”

Jack smirked. “I might have sent a text message to Ms. Song. I might have suggested she get a look at what we’re doing tonight.”

“I am genuinely not sure if I want to kiss you or punch you right now. If we fuck this up, we are dead.”

Jack put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. I mean what I told Angela – we’ve got this. You’ll be right there with me, and we’ll pull this off.”

Gabe couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. Yeah, we will.”

Jack stepped back. “So, any ideas for that _amuse?”_

* * *

D.Va’s Dish – August 4, 2017

OVERWATCH – NEW MENU, NEW IDEAS

Overwatch has been an “established” part of the Gibraltar restaurant scene – which is a really nice way to say they’re totally old and out of step with the times. In the past, they had some of the city’s best dining, but it wasn’t long before they just kept sticking to their “hits” and stopped trying to do anything new. You probably know this because your grandpa has dragged you there for a birthday or anniversary every couple years, and that boring menu Never. Ever. Changes.

Guess what? This isn’t the old Overwatch anymore.

There’s been a changing of the guard in their kitchen, though, and with it has come some food worth your time.

Executive _Sous-chef_ Jack Morrison guided Yours Truly through a tour of their new menu, with a new focus on local, and some interesting twists on traditional favorites.

The new menu’s _rosto_ with manzanilla braised pork has a rich flavor, and the slightly salty tang of the wine compliments the roasted carrot and blistered tomatoes served in place of the usual tomato sauce. _Chef de Cuisine_ Gabriel Reyes, who helped Morrison to develop the menu before being promoted to run Blackwatch Catering, designed the dish to highlight the locally grown grapes and vegetables, and provided a final touch with _queso bola_ that had been made in house and aged for almost four months. YUM. If this is what he did for Overwatch, I am totally booking Blackwatch for my next big party.

Another highlight was a dish of shredded duck breast, caramelized fennel, herbs, and cheese over _Calentita_ , which Morrison explained was a nod to some of the island’s street food history, the warm crisp bread complimenting the unctuous toppings. It’s like the best pizza you never ate, and a dish I look forward to having again.

I don’t want to spoil too many of the new menu’s surprises, but I do want to thank Chefs Morrison and Reyes for the surprise that greeted me when I was seated at my table (PS – GENJI-kun, I totally forgot your number. DM me!) The chefs had created these beautiful little _japonesa_ donuts for me in the shape of my blog logo, but instead of the traditional sweet custard, they were filled with an interesting combination of savory miso caramel and candied yam puree – a great way to wake up my palette and get me ready for what was coming.

Awesome job, guys. I’ll be back!

**< 3 <3 <3 <3 <3**

-D. Va

* * *

They did 200 covers the night after Hana’s review went live, and Blackwatch booked over 20k worth of parties over the next two months.

Chef didn’t say a word to either Jack or Gabriel about their work together after that - or about the night a few months later when Lena caught them kissing in the walk-in.

Gabriel could live with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some kitchen terms thrown around here - 
> 
> Commis - low level cook in a Brigade kitchen  
> Garde Manger - pantry chef, preparing things like cold dishes, salads, and hors d'œuvres.  
> sous chef - assistant chef.  
> Chef de Cuisine - head of cuisine.  
> Mise - Short for 'mise en place', basically getting everything in place that you need for your station to cook.  
> covers - 1 cover = 1 table's order.  
> Amuse (Bouche) - a small bite often served before the meal to get your palette going, usually done as a "gift" from the chef to the customer.  
> \--------------------  
> No I have no idea where this came from, originally I was just going to do a small drabble based off the first scene that popped into my head and then it just kept growing. Obviously played around with some ages here, which is why Hana is a successful blogger and Fareeha is still in middle school. :)
> 
> Is that a little McHanzo if you squint? Mayyyybe. Maybe it just is.


End file.
